Today
by jae-vous
Summary: And fate comes full circle. Not necessarily a second chance, but maybe a new beginning. T/Z, their future, and a reflection on the past.


**_Impending midterms means my mind is all for distractions, and so here we are. This was originally an abandoned 500 word drabble in my drafts. Still meticulously going through the hard drive slowly but surely…._**

**_Hopefully there are still some of you out there clinging to Tony and Ziva as I am. _**

**_jae_**

* * *

_Today is the first day of the rest of your life._

It's not as though she wasn't paying attention. She is preoccupied.

At least, that is what she will claim later.

Traffic is heavy for the hour as she makes her way across town. What should be a ten minute drive to the navy yard is going on twenty-two minutes and counting. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel not so much impatiently, but absently, she spends the next red light coming up with how she will deliver the news this time to her partner when she sees him. No doubt he will corner her the moment she steps out onto the floor of the bullpen – already she has three unanswered text messages – but she knows he will read the answer on her face the minute his eyes do their familiar inspection of her expression.

_Not yet._

Ziva sighs. At least she's had practice with disappointing him.

They had been trying for months now to conceive. Nearly a year later, and Ziva could feel herself falling into her old habit of dealing with the unbearable; numbing herself to the pain. Back in August, when Tony had gently insisted they go and speak to the doctor whom who had known her post return stateside, and was familiar with her history, she had been warned even then of the complications she would potentially face and likely endure, but it had been the last thing on her mind all those years ago.

With Tony's reassurance, Ziva had agreed somewhat hesitantly; she was aware this wouldn't come as easy for them, yet hearing it aloud made it seem all the more real. And admitting aloud to wanting to have a child? She couldn't get it out of her mind that admitting to it wouldn't bring a wrath of misfortune upon her. It is the very feeling, she thinks, that contributed to what kept her and her partner apart for so long. Among other things.

She rolls her eyes at herself for even allowing her hopes to rise when she had woken up feeling somewhat sickly; even through her slight nausea, Tony had smiled at her brilliantly, his eyes shining with a suspicious gleam as he leaned across the bed to press a deep kiss to her lips. She had risen up to meet his mouth, tugging at his dress shirt still hanging open and unbuttoned. Her fingers had curled around the material as she grinned against his insistent lips. _Today's the day, _he had murmured between kisses. He had been so sure of himself, she couldn't help but hope that perhaps he was right. The nausea still lingers, but she suspects it's more to do with the anxiety and dejection rolling through her stomach in waves.

As the light finally turns green, it is only Tony she is thinking of when she passes through the intersection and an SUV comes roaring amidst honks and screeching towards the passenger side of her vehicle.

* * *

They're quick on the scene, but Tony is quicker as he races past police tape and emergency responders pacing quickly around the area. Glass splinters under his feet as he passes a car crumbled in on itself and the dark SUV that was at the center of this scene of chaos. The fall breeze picks up then, swirling leaves around them and carries the call of his name from their boss. He ignores the warning in his voice, though, and immediately zeroes in on a familiar head of curls, lifted in a mass surrounding her face, obstructing it from his view. A blanket is pulled around her shoulders, several men in uniform surrounding her with rapt attention.

_"Ziva!"_

Her head whips around at the sound of his voice, and relief floods him like a tidal wave as she blinks back at him, _seeing_ and _knowing_ and _alive_. "_Jesus_, Ziva." He wastes no time getting to her side, pulling her into his chest as she falls against him, allowing the crushing weight of his arms to envelop her. She knows he needs this and he is relieved she allows him this display of public affection.

He suspects she forgives his transgression because she may need it a little, too.

"I am fine," she assures, her voice clear, though he detects the barest hint of a waiver. Instantly, his relief ebbs into panic. Pulling back, he scans her face with fear, his eyes falling on the cuts across her face, the butterfly bandage under her hairline, her lip still tinged red with blood. He draws his hand down her arm to her waist, dropping his voice low and leaning close. "Is – did… – is everything okay?"

Ziva's face falls slightly as his last word comes out choke, and he takes it as confirmation of what he fears the worst. Quickly she rushes to correct his assumption. "No, Tony." She shakes her head, her lips slipping into a sad smile. "We… we were wrong." Tony looks momentarily taken aback, but recovers quickly as he pulls her against him yet again. "Thank God." He murmurs into her hair. She chuckles lightly at the sentiment. "_I_ _know_." She agrees, though her voice is laced with disappointment. Tony pulls back, brushing his thumb across her cheek where a clean cut contrasts harshly with her complexion. "I just don't think I could have handled…" he trails off, hesitant. "The risk was already -" Ziva stops him, pressing her hand into his chest. "I know." She emphasizes once more. Their eyes lock together, taking a few moments as the reality of their exchange sets in. This hadn't been how she planned on breaking the news to him.

"Ms. David?"

Professional instincts kicking in, both partners turn and straighten in unison as an officer Ziva had been briefly questioned by earlier arrives before them. Immediately, Ziva falls into the well versed script of a seasoned field agent. "Causalities?" She addresses the man brusquely, and he blinks at her serious demeanor. Tony holds back a chuckle, sliding his glance toward the woman beside him with a hint of amusement. She'd never really been able to shed the Mossad trained exterior. To help her out, and give the officer's perplexed glance to him an explanation, Tony shuffles his hand in the pocket of his windbreaker, freeing his badge and holding it up for the man to see. "NCIS." He nods between him and Ziva. "Both of us." Understanding lights the man's eyes, and he nods to both of them, turning his gaze to Ziva. "The driver of the SUV struck both your car and a small sedan seconds preceding the crash. He was in critical condition, but stable as he was transported to G.W." Ziva nods, having watched the man be escorted from the scene twenty minutes prior. "Unfortunately the occupants of the sedan weren't as lucky." He grimaced, checking his notepad in his hand. "The driver and his wife both died on impact, but their son managed to escape the collision with a few bumps and bruises." Ziva's face immediately falls, and she turns a crushing look to Tony, and not for the first time, the effect of her years spent in the states shows yet again how much she had softened from the hardened solider she had been all those years ago.

Where had the time gone?

Tony feels his own throat close, and he fights a wave of nausea as he presses a comforting hand to Ziva's back. She leans into the touch, grateful for the solid contact of her partner that so often grounds her. "How old?" She asks, injecting sympathy and vulnerability for the first time into her voice. The officer's features soften as well, and he refers to his crumpled notepad again, squinting at the scrawl he no doubt rushed to jot down. "Looks to be about a year old; we're looking into further records as we wait for the state to send someone out to retrieve him." He flips through a few pages, then glances back up at them. "So far, there doesn't seem to be any local family to contact." As if on cue, a small cry sounds from behind an ambulance a few feet away from them.

Ziva's eyes whip up toward the vehicle, craning her neck around the officer. "May I…" she begins, and the officer waves her ahead with a chuckle. "Be my guest," He smiles between them as a gust of wind blows his sandy hair across his eyes. The breeze carries the sound of another cry toward them. "Jeff over there's no good with the kiddos."

Ziva gives him a small smile, then turns to Tony as she begins to back away. "Give me a moment."

Immediately he tenses, reaching out his thumb to dab at the blood appearing near the cut on her lip. "Ziva…." He warns, reluctant to allow her to leave his side. But she's had enough of the spotlight for one day; her patience waning thin under Tony's ever attentive actions. "I'm fine," she swats at his hand, clipped, and brushes away more curls that blow across her face. Tony smiles as a leaf tangles in its ends, and raises an eyebrow as he slowly reaches out and pulls it from her hair. "I am fine," She reiterates softly, and upon his nod, she leaves his side and makes her way toward the sound of the crying child.

"She okay?"

A gruff voice calls from behind him, and he has to keep himself from jumping. Straightening, he turns around to face the speaker. By the smirk on his bosses face, Gibbs had still caught the action in his all-knowing way. Tony rolls his eyes, but attempts to downplay his earlier behavior to Ziva' s state. He had disregarded his request to remain calm earlier, but it didn't seem as if Gibbs were here to reprimand him. "Few scratches, little shook-up. Still ninja-proof." Tony jabs a thumb over to the impacted Mini. "Can't say the same for the car, though." Gibbs gives him a long look that borders on exasperation. He brings a coffee to lips that materializes out of nowhere, taking a long draw as Tony's eyes look for Ziva beyond the ambulance.

"She okay?" He repeats again meaningfully, this time softening his tone. Sighing, Tony turns his head back to Gibbs, giving him a sideways glance. A nod. "She will be." Gibbs gives him an understanding jolt of his head that he supposes suffices as a nod, then crumples the empty cup in his hand until it's a ball in his fist. "Heard about the kid." Tony averts his eyes as hears his bosses voice tighten. If Gibbs were superman, cases with kids were his kyrptonite.

_Especially_ if it involved his own.

"Yeah," he catches the sound of Ziva's voice rise as she remains out of view, but it doesn't sound distressed, and he turns his attention back to Gibbs. "Kid's about one, they said. No family," He frowns, shoving his hands into his pockets. "That they know of, anyway." A small smile pulls at the bosses mouth, causing Tony's frown to deepen. Gibbs nods his head toward something behind him.

"Family doesn't always mean blood, though, huh?"

He drops his head to the side, confused, but upon Gibbs second nod, he twists his body to gaze behind him. Standing there is Ziva, who glances up to meet his eyes, as if she was attuned to every glance and thought of his.

Maybe she was.

She gives him her rare, full smile; The blanket from around hers shoulders now twisted in her grasp to accommodate a sleeping boy curled against her body; his deep breaths stirring the curls at her neck. His face, as it were, serene, even amongst the chaos bustling around them. Tony's answering smile is automatic. The wind blows her curls around them, and she huddles the boy closer, protecting him from the chill.

Even in the midst of disaster, she paints a beautiful picture.

* * *

"Ziva?" He calls quietly, slipping off his shoes and pushing their front door shut behind him. He drops his keys into the ornate bowl kept by the door, readjusting his grip on the take-out bags in his hand. A soft call from inside the house answers. Quietly, he makes his way down the dimly lit hall while stepping carefully over their bags they had discarded earlier that evening. When he reaches the living room, he finds Ziva perched where he left her on the couch, though she is not alone.

"Little man woke up?"

She looks up from the boy in her lap; her hands clasped around his small fists as he roars with giggles that makes both partners laugh. His olive skin is as dark as Ziva's, his hair even darker. Thick black locks that don't quite curl at the ends, and piercing gray eyes that seem to shine with endless amusement. And he knows there's no way its possible, but somewhere in his innocent face, he swears he sees a bit of his partner, too.

Ziva shrugs, pulling the boy into her arms and turning him around as to face Tony. He gives him a toothy grin, one that Tony readily returns. "He woke up when the phone rang." She nods to the television, where a mindless cartoon plays out quietly. "He was not easily entertained with a movie. But he has been very good, yes?" Her voice morphs into an uncharacteristically high pitch that almost causes Tony to laugh outright, but he catches himself and covers his cough with the shuffle of plastic bags. "Well, that's because you've got some lame cartoon on, Ziva." He puffs out his chest, adopting his more theatrical voice. "You gotta expose kids to the classics young. We'll get him started tonight." Ziva shakes her head at his antics, and murmurs something unheard to Tony in the baby's ear that sounds suspiciously like _Silly_.

Grinning, he holds his hand up. "Got your favorite." He grins, and nods to the little boy in her arms. "I got some plain chicken, too, we can cut up and see if he likes." He pauses under Ziva's amused smile and the way her eyes look at him warmly. "Uh, do they eat real food at this age?" Ziva rearranges her legs to stretch and untangle herself from the couch, wincing at some residual soreness from earlier, but lifting the little boy and sliding him onto her hip with ease. The move makes Tony's throat tighten.

When no family had been able to be contacted earlier, Ziva had turned a pleading look in his direction. The sun was beginning to set and the chaos of the scene had settled down; the little boy all the while remained fast asleep in Ziva's arms. And perhaps it was the recent months, or how their day began, but looking at his partner, he knew both of them were in agreement. Neither of them could stomach the thought of the beautiful little boy going off to somewhere unknown that night. With a nod to her, Ziva quickly requested the boy come home with them. The officials were reluctant at first, but it took all of Gibbs two minutes to have them convinced to allow the agents to take home the child for the evening. After asking to be notified of any information regarding the boy, Tony took Ziva's hand and led her away from the crime scene.

Tony watches her now as she moves around him, obvious to his adoring look, patting his shoulder with a smile. "He is not a newborn, Tony." She retreats to the kitchen, and he follows her with a roll of his eyes, but wisely chooses not to answer. He sets the plastic bags on the table, listening to her babble nonsense to the gurgling baby while removing plates from the cabinets. It takes him a second to realize she's actually speaking in her native Hebrew. Except for the rare phone call to her Aunt Nettie, her Hebrew had been all but retired for English.

Turning around, he watches as the child's eyes light up as she speaks, his head falling to the side as if he's listening intently, then babbles back. "Ziva…" he starts, taking the plates from her hand as she watches the baby break into a grin. "Do you think he understands you?" Ziva draws her thumb over his chubby cheek, across a scratch marking him from earlier. She looks over his head at Tony's equally dumbfounded expression.

"I – "

Suddenly, the shrill ring of his work phone resonates from the hall. Shoving the plates back into her grasp, Ziva takes them with a perplexed look as he darts out of the room. "I got it!" He calls unnecessarily, as she looks from the plates to where he had just been standing, then to the table he could have easily reached. Shaking her head with another murmur of Hebrew to the little boy in her arms, Ziva sets the plates on the table and begins to pull out containers to spread out and serve.

"Boss," she hears Tony greet, pausing over a piece of chicken she dutifully cuts up into small pieces. The little boy squirms against her hip, reaching out a pudgy hand to grasp at the food out of reach. She clucks patiently, putting down the knife and fork and picking through a box of vegetables. Sampling one with a lick of her thumb, she deems it mild enough to rip up into little pieces to mix with the chicken.

Behind her, she hears Tony re-enter the room.

"That was Gibbs."

Ziva turns her head around to look at him, pointing at a chair in the corner with arm-rests they only use during holidays or gatherings. "Can you bring that over for him?" He nods, gripping it with one hand and dragging it over to wedge under the table between their seats. Ziva fusses about getting him situated, leaving him siting in the seat staring up at Tony with interest as she shuffles around the next room. When she returns, she brandishes a pillow. Catching on, Tony lifts the baby up to hover over the chair as she places the pillow on the backrest. "There," she announces, as Tony takes his cue to place him back on the chair. Ziva grins at him, taking her seat at the table. "That will do for tonight."

Tony doesn't sit, however.

"Ziva, they got a name."

Her eyes flicker up to him sharply. He pulls out his phone, bringing up an e-mail forwarded to him by McGee just moments ago. "_Bacher_," he stumbles over the name, pausing as he spells out the first. "A-R-I-E-H…." He looks at Ziva inquisitively, watching as her eyes momentarily fill. "Is that…"

"_Arieh_, yes." She murmurs quietly, though her tone gets just noticeably breathier with the final _h_, "Another form of spelling for Ari."

Silence permeates the kitchen, interrupted by the happy sounds of Arieh chewing at the pieces of food Ziva placed in front of him. Tony scratches his head nervously. "Looks like we were on to something earlier," he cracks, watching the little boy pinch at a pea. Ziva's eyes flicker between them. "The victims–sorry," He winces, "his _parents_– are immigrants from Iran, actually… part of a small Jewish population that fled the country seven years ago. " He goes back to scanning his phone, "Low-wage jobs, no friends, no family stateside…." He glances back to Ziva, a pained expression on her face he knows is reflected on his.

"So…. he is alone."

Her voice is laced with regret, and what he detects as empathy.

Pushing her chair back, she pulls Arieh into her lap. He sighs happily as he leans his head against her, his eyes slowly slipping close in the beginning stages of drowsiness. Tony sighs, taking a seat at last across from her, the food spread out between them growing cold. "Boss says the state will send someone out to the yard tomorrow, enter his info and stats into their records." Tony's voice weakens. "He'll be a ward of the state by lunchtime." Ziva makes a noise of disgust, and her eyes narrow as she looks across the room and tries to keep her emotions in check. Under the kitchen lights, he could see a purple bruise beginning to form along her clavicle, the faint mark of her sea belt a shadow on her olive skin. He gulps, shaking the feeling of dread that had flood through him earlier that morning when he picked up his phone. He could have lost more than her that day, as the memory of her appointment comes back to him. But he hadn't lost anything. So why did it feel like he did?

His gaze falls on Arieh in Ziva's arms, and if her look as she glances down at him is any indication, her heart aches as much as his does for the little boy.

This morning seemed like another lifetime ago.

"C'mon," Ziva's eyes snap up to Tony, who gets up unceremoniously and loudly pushes his chair back. The baby squeaks in alarm, and Ziva instantly hushes him with a soothing stream of broken Hebrew. "Tony," she eyes him reproachfully, running her hand over Arieh's head.

Tony grins apologetically. " Come," he implores, softening his tone and reaching a hand out to her. Sparing a glance at the untouched meal, she lifts herself from the chair and awards him with a soft smile as he takes her hand and pulls her with him from the kitchen, leading both her and Arieh toward the bedroom.

"I know just the movie…"

* * *

She hears Tony's low voice before she finally opens her eyes. Disoriented, she blinks against the sun shining through the window. As her body wakes, an aching begins to make itself known in her back, her shoulders, her neck. She moans softly into her pillow, but the voices continue. Memories of the previous day begin to come back to her as she stretches her arm and finds it to be sore as well, and her mind catches up to reality just as the smallest pressure begins to press on her back. "Good morning," Tony sing-songs as she finally rolls over, her eyes adjusting on his form beside her on the mattress. He leans forward, and she realizes he holds something in his lap.

Or _someone_.

"Someone wants to say hello."

She smiles as another face swims into her vision, and she pushes a cascade of curls out of her face to better see the early risers. Tony's fingers dance across the little boy's belly, and a hail of giggles follows the action that brings a wide grin to Tony's face. Ziva's heart flutters at the pride on his features, being able to draw the reaction out of him. She clears her throat, reaching across the sheets to trace her finger along Arieh's bare foot. "Boker tov," she murmurs, purely for Arieh's benefit, though she cannot deny she doesn't enjoy the smile that crosses her partner's face whenever she lapses into her native Hebrew. The baby merely gurgles back at her, flailing his arms in her direction, but she thinks she can detect a hint of understanding in his eyes at the sound of her language. _Their language. _

As Arieh becomes enraptured with a bookmark Tony pulled from the bedside table, a peaceful silence falls upon the bedroom. Tony whispers occasionally into the baby's ear, causing him to giggle and pause with the bookmark in his hands, and she notices that they must have fallen asleep just like this last night; she doesn't remember the movie ending, but she remembers Arieh breathing deeply between them, sleeping soundly with his arm thrown around her chest and his feet digging into Tony's ribs. Suddenly, Arieh throws the bookmark away from his, as if it had greatly offended him in some misdeed, and collapses unceremoniously against Tony's chest, causing her partner to exhale sharply and her to laugh. "Jeez, little man." She catches the reverent tone in the nickname he'd picked up, but Tony seems oblivious, poking at his bare tummy and causing the baby to burst into a fit of belly laughs. She blames the surrealness of the moment for her current thoughts.

"It would be easy to get used to this, yes?"

Tony's chuckles subside, and his eyes soften as he looks over to her. "It'll happen for us, Ziva."

She gives him a sad smile over her pillow, scooting closer to reach out and trace her finger up Arieh's stomach to make him grin. "We both know the chances, Tony…" She says softly, her voice wavering as she avoids his gaze. "It is my fa–"

"Don't you dare, Ziva." Tony growls darkly, and it startles Arieh, causing him to twist his head against Tony's chest to look up at him. "No more self deprecation. I can't handle it, you know I can't." His gaze intensifies, "Those bastards….What they did to you –" He falters, cutting himself off angrily.

"Tony," she sighs, placing a hand on his arm to calm him. "_Okay_, okay." He relaxes slowly under her touch, and when she senses he's pulled himself away from memory of heat and sand and the desert that still haunts both their dreams, she starts again. "All I am saying, is for now, we are not sure if it will work out for us quite the way we wish." Tony's silent for a long time, long enough that Ziva begins to squirm. It had been a long time since she'd battle with her insecurities when it came to her relationship with Tony, but sometimes when he fell silent this way, she felt like she didn't know how to read him at all.

She watches as Tony straightens Arieh against his chest, his body slowly sliding down as he plays with Tony's fingers.

"I was thinking…" He finally says, and Ziva raises an eyebrow in his direction.

"Should I consider this a cause for concern?" Her eyes twinkle with humor though, and he rewards her with a smirk before organizing his thoughts once more.

"What if… "

"Tony," Ziva cuts him off, shaking her head sadly and answering his question before it forms. "We cannot." Tony's face falls.

"Ziva, I've seen you with him. One day and you are already head over heels for the kid."

She rolls away from the bed then, bringing the sheets with her as she untangles her limbs and plants her feet on the floor. Immediately, Arieh rolls off of Tony, crawling toward her, and Ziva opens her arms absently as Tony sits up as well. "That does not matter," She says sadly, shaking her head again. "If we allow ourselves to become attached to him Tony, and something were to happen…." She breaks away, looking down at Arieh's head resting against her chest. "It would be impossible to let go." Ziva gathers herself quickly, turning away with Arieh in her arms and fleeing their bedroom. Tony watches her go. "We should get ready to leave soon." She calls over her shoulder, not glancing back. "They will be expecting us early."

* * *

He swears when they woke up this morning, there were twice as many bruises and cuts marring Ziva's features than there were now. Tony takes a moment to question the all-mighty power of make-up, then slides into his seat at his desk. Ziva had left in the direction of the elevator a little while ago, pulling Arieh from his grasp a final time and insisting she would take him outside to wait for whomever was dispatched to pick up the boy. He had felt the Gibbs' Glare burning through the side of his head all morning long, but the man had never said a word, save for the greeting to Arieh and the brief time he spent with the boy in his lap as Ziva had gone to turn in the rest of her report. There was a moment there where Tony had watched Ziva slip the boy off her hip for Gibbs to just as expertly slide into his arms; he had watched his partner's cheeks warm at the moment, the way Gibbs gracefully pulled Arieh from her grasp. If he hadn't known any better, he would think it donned her for the first time just how pivotal Gibbs' role was in her life, and whom he would be for whatever children she and Tony had.

Tony hadn't thought he could watch them take Arieh away, much less out of Ziva's own arms after the prior evening and morning. And so, like the coward he was, he remained in the bullpen awaiting the return of his partner from below. But as the hour stretched on, people came and went from the arriving elevator; none being his partner.

"Ya'll are making a mistake." Gibbs voice finally calls across the bullpen. He keeps his voice low even though they're the only two at their desks, and Tony refrains from lashing out and telling him to mind his own business. Instead, he puts his pen down and looks over to the man, whose eyes have yet to leave his screen.

"It isn't easy for her, boss."

He knows Gibbs will know what he means, and the arch of his eyebrow is indeed the acknowledgement he seeks. Still, Gibbs isn't quite finished. "Nothing worth having comes easy."

A swig of coffee follows the metaphysical pronouncement, and Tony can't help the laugh that betrays him. "No kidding." His head swims with the pain and effort it took for him and Ziva to get where they were today, and even Gibbs throws him a smirk, his thoughts probably not that far from his. Before his boss can finish off the rest of his coffee, however, his phone vibrates along his desk, and he quickly snatches it up. "Gibbs," He says, bringing the phone to his ear. A short pause, and then, a wide smile breaks across his face. Instantly, Tony straightens in his chair. "Uh huh," he grunts, his eyes swinging to his Senior Field Agent for the briefest moment. "Ya, okay." He drops the phone to his desk, letting it clatter across the surface until it hits his keyboard and stills. Taking the final swig of coffee, he looks over to Tony. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" He draws, getting up from his desk and walking toward his. Tony frowns as he throws his cup into the trash by desk without pausing, watching as makes his way to the catwalk.

"Boss?"

He gets up, pushing his chair in to follow after. Gibbs stops half-way up the stairs, peering down at him. He points his hand out the window. "You guys have an hour lunch, DiNozzo. Started counting two minutes ago."

Slightly irritated with the vague conversation, Tony starts off toward the elevator, grumbling under his breath. His final thought before the elevators close is that coffee must delay a person's ability to form cohesive sentences.

He'll start abstaining from the drink. _Today._

* * *

The fall breeze is much more pleasant than yesterday. It had died down, only causing a slight ruffle of the leaves that had begun to fall in the last two weeks. Though the chill from the previous day lingers, the sun is warm on his back as he walks across the courtyard outside the entrance to the building. He doesn't have to walk far before he spots Ziva, her curls recognizable anywhere, the set of her hips and the way she tilts her head up just slightly in the direction of the sun are tells only someone who knew her closely would pick up on as distinct habits of hers. He jams his hands into his pockets as he strides toward her, and it's when he's three feet away he realizes she's not turned in the direction of the sun, but rather watching something at a distance.

Or _someone._

A smile lights her face as she watches Arieh dig through the sandbox beside a girl who appeared close in age. They were sharing a bucket, and it looked as though Arieh was wearing more of the sand than he was playing with. Frowning, Tony bumps his shoulder against her, nodding toward the pair.

"They still haven't come for him?"

Ziva's gaze lingers happily for a few moments, before she quirks her head to the side. A mischievous smile pulls at her mouth.

"I told Gibbs to tell them not to bother."

For a few seconds Tony processes this. He sees Ziva's smile grow as his puzzlement fades into disbelief.

"_Really_?"

She drops her head, becoming interested in her feet as she shuffles from foot to foot. "I cannot help but feel as though… this is a sign." She sounds unsure even to herself, but when Tony doesn't laugh, she takes a deep breath and continues. "_Ari_," she emphasizes, making no mistake to whom she is referring, "He is gone, Tony. And I could not…. I could not help him." She looks up, then, capturing his gaze. "I could not save him." Ziva smiles, self-aware, as she looks back across to Arieh. "But with Arieh, maybe I can do right by him. It is like a second chance, yes?" She moves closer to him, turning to face him fully. "And maybe this is a chance, for us?" She adds, finally, her voice small as she appraised him.

Tony considers her thoughtfully, though his mind trips over the mention of Ari. It was a hard subject for them to broach, but he understood what Ari had been to her before he had been the man that had torn through their lives. He had taken Kate, but he had also brought him Ziva. He couldn't think too long or hard about it. Eventually he had learned to accept the two events for what they were, and to be grateful for the woman who was his life now.

He mulls over her words as she waits patiently, and it's the collision against his leg that finally pulls him from his thoughts. Arieh grins widely up at him, his eyes holding nothing but warmth and adoration. Chuckling, he bends down to retrieve him, pulling him into his arms and between him and Ziva. "Well, what do you say, little man?" He grins, looking around Arieh's head to Ziva. Her face grows warmer under his gaze. Arieh makes a happy noise, reaching for Ziva who accepts him reverently, laughing as his hands immediately tunnel into her curls. "We gonna do this?" He looks toward Ziva, and her smile widens as she looks back at him.

"It cannot hurt to try."

Tony pulls her against him then, smiling into her hair as the sun continues to warm him from the outside in. _Today is the day_, he thinks to himself.

The first day of the rest of your life.


End file.
